


A Love Letter

by Your_Muse



Category: 2Cellos
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3752854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_Muse/pseuds/Your_Muse





	A Love Letter

Maestros, my loves, 

I see the way you explore the darkness, searching for me the way nocturnal beauties search the stars on moonless nights. I see how many souls are touched by your rhapsody, the way you fulfill them with your yearnings for absolution, the way they promise such mercies, but leave you wandering with the ache for more. It's not their love that guides your fingers, it is mine, and though I do so deeply love you both, your efforts to find me are inconsolably in vain. 

On those long roads you travel, I am ever beside you, ever watching. I see your eyes search windows and walkways, shadows and dark corners, looking. You’re always looking. I dance for you on the wind, I sing for you within the brook, I am alive in your music and the draw of your bows across the strings of your beloved cellos. Though you don't see me, I am always with you, always loving you, but we are not, and may not ever be, together.

There are times where you think you no longer need me, nights where desires are sated so completely that you forget for just a moment that the warm embrace you’d lost yourself in does not belong to me, but morning always comes and they leave, one after the other, with hope. It’s the least you can give them in return. 

Other nights, after the show ends, after the crowds have dissipated and the crews packed, you find glorious solitude where you grant life to the notes in your heart, the nocturnes that connect each of us. The tunes are slow and mournful, deep and luminous, the embodiment of all I am to you, and in that one glorious movement, your world empties of everything but you and I, master and muse. 

On those nights I cry. 

I cry because you need me, but more than that, I cry because you both need me to stay away. You live for this obsession the way I live for you. Who would we be if not for this? Without me, there is no passion. Without you, my world is impenetrable silence. Without the lovely pull of the cello, we are all nothing, and we are too beautiful a trio to be nothing.

Maybe one night we will blessed with the strength to transcend this fate, one lonely night when the moon calls to us, and we will wander through the echoes of space until we are united at last. In that night, my loves, maybe we will find destiny in each other’s arms: an ethereal symphony within the celloverse.

Lovingly ever yours,

Your Muse


End file.
